Wrong Place, Right Guy
by Lolzauslly
Summary: When Ally is jumped in the parking lot, Dez jumps in to save the day. While she thinks her hero could also be her heartthrob, Dez is worried his past is the reason to stay apart. Will the good guy get the girl in the end?–Delly(From the creator of Never Been Dumped, The Hot-Chick's Best Friend, and The Next Morning)
1. Chapter 1

**I'm Back! I really hope you guys enjoy this story. It took me a while to write it but here it is. Enjoy!**

_She's at the wrong place at the wrong time.  
Is there any chance he's Mr. Right?_

I was on my way to a bar decorated with bras—wondering if I'd be required to donate mine—when I spotted a cute guy walking toward me. With his sandy brown hair and bright polo shirt, I thought he was potential date material—until he pulled a knife on me.

"Keep quiet, darlin', and we'll be fine." He turned the silver switchblade round and round in his hand as we stood in the empty parking lot.

My heart clobbered my chest and I threw my purse in front of me. "Take it. It's a Coach. It's real." Backing away from him, I clutched the big wallpaper sample book I was returning to the store before hitting the bar. My muscles twitched as if itching to attack. But I was frozen.

He stepped over the purse toward me. "I was interested in the purse until I got a closer look at you." The smell of rank, stale beer hit me.

"Guess it's my lucky day."

The knife was inches from my throat. I tried to swallow but my mouth was parched. It was after eight o'clock, and all of the businesses that shared the parking lot were closed. There were a few vehicles, but no sign of anyone.

The sun was starting to slip in the sky on the warm summer night, casting long shadows on the pavement.

The man sneered, heat radiating off him. A bead of sweat slid down his tanned face. With his bright white teeth and blue eyes, he had looked like a model at first glance. Now he looked like a lunatic.

Such are my dating instincts.

The knife glinted in the sun as he looked me up and down.

I took another step back. If I'd learned anything from my afternoon dates with Oprah, it was never to be taken to the second crime scene.

That's where the bad stuff always went down. I had to gather my wits and do something, fast.

I held up my hands, trying to invoke the voice of reason. "Just take the purse and no one needs to get hurt. Please."

He laughed. "It won't hurt unless you fight."

I shoved the wallpaper book into his chest, hoping to knock him down, but he grabbed it out of my hands and threw it aside. "Bitch!"

His face was twisted and angry as he lunged for me. When I dodged to the side, a man jumped from the sky, knocking the attacker to the ground with a thud. They scuffled for control, swearing and stirring up dust and dirt. Then the attacker rolled over and held his knife to my hero's throat.

"This doesn't involve you."

I should've run, but my adrenaline was MIA. I tried to find my voice to scream for help, but it was gone, too. Apparently, I was born with no survival instincts.

The man on the ground gripped the attacker's arm and head-butted him. The bad guy snarled above him and struggled to free his arm—and the knife.

_This guy's going to get killed because of me._ That's what finally kicked in my courage. I jumped on the bad guy and straddled him from behind, grabbed his wrist, twisted it behind his back, and wrenched the knife from him.

Just like we'd practiced in tae kwon do class the week before. Without the knife, of course. I stood up and the other man pried his way out from underneath him. I pressed my shiny black pump against the attacker's neck for good measure. That wasn't exactly one of our official moves, but he remained pinned to the ground.

"It won't hurt unless you fight," I said. But there wasn't much fight left in the guy.

The other man hopped up and ran for my purse. He was shirtless and bleeding.

"What the hell? You're going to rob me now?" I held the knife back like I might throw it at him.

That's when the guy on the ground bit my ankle. I jerked my foot away and he rolled over, taking me down with him, right on my rear.

The other guy dove on him, knocking him away.

Pulling myself up into a squat, I pointed the knife at the attacker.

"Don't move."

He gazed up my skirt and smiled, blood dripping from his mouth. "Nice panties."

The jumper punched him in the face and the man's head hit the pavement. He didn't move after that, but I kept the knife pointed at him and set my foot on his chest in case he tried to get up again. My heart was ready to burst. I glanced down at my ankle. Luckily, he hadn't broken the skin. The blood in his mouth must've been his own.

A black dog bounded across the parking lot toward my savior. "Nice timing, Samson. You show up now?"

The dog sat down, his tail thumping the pavement, while the guy went back for my purse. "I'm not stealing it; I'm looking for your cell phone to call police. I don't have mine on me."'

I squeezed my eyes shut, embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm in defense mode." I wiggled my fingers at him. "Bring it here."

He picked up my purse and handed it to me, keeping some distance between us.

I fished out my cell with one hand, dialed 911, and filled the police in on the situation. "I just got held up in the Parkside Shopping Plaza. The attacker's knocked out. Hurry!"

The man rubbed the back of his head and came over to me. "You alright?" The sound of sirens split the air.

I gulped and nodded, even though I wasn't entirely sure. "Where the hell did you come from, anyway?" I asked. "You just flew in like some kind of superhero." I gestured to the sky.

"Big hero, seeing as how you saved me." He jerked his thumb toward the oil change shop next to us. "I was working late tonight on the roof, ripping off the last few shingles, and I saw what was happening."

He scratched the dog behind its ear, which set one paw twitching. "And my trusty sidekick here shows up when it's all over," he said to the big black Labrador retriever.

"I'm Ally Dawson, by the way. I'd shake your hand but I'm holding a knife." I shrugged.

"I'm Dezmond Worthy, but you can call me Dez. And this is my useless dog, Samsom. Must have been sleeping in the truck, you beast."

He swiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Blood was dribbling from the side of his head into his red hair, pulled back with a handkerchief. He had a gleaming tanned skin that covered taut muscles. If I had seen both men approaching me in the parking lot, he's the one I would've been afraid of.

Again, with the infallible instincts.

"I hope they're bringing an ambulance, too," I said. "You look horrible."

He shook his head. "Just a few bumps. I've had worse." He braced his hands above his knees and leaned forward, catching his breath. The man didn't have an ounce of fat on him.

The guy on the pavement was still not moving beneath me. _Is he dead?_

Three cop cars tore into the parking lot. Doors flew open and three officers jumped out, two drawing their guns on the guy underneath me, while another pointed his at Dez.

"Hands in the air, Worthy," shouted one of the cops.

Samson growled, while Dez held his hands up.

"Wait! He tried to help," I said. "This is the guy you want. The one I'm standing on." I seriously hoped I wasn't breaking any laws. I'd never even gotten a speeding ticket.

The police ordered the guy under me to get up and I stepped away. "This is his knife," I said, holding it out in front of me with two fingers.

The attacker didn't respond, so two officers pulled the man up from the ground. "How the hell did you take this guy down?" one of them asked me. He linked a pair of cuffs on the guy who was now mumbling and incoherent.

I pointed to Dez. "He jumped off the roof and knocked him over. But then that guy pulled the knife on him. So I disarmed him." I shrugged.

The cop looked me up and down, taking in all five-foot-two of me, and my bulky, one hundred and twenty pounds. "How?"

"A few tae kwon do moves, but then the guy bit me, so Dez knocked him out." Didn't need to explain the embarrassing underwear part.

Dez swore. "Why did you wait for me to jump in if you know tae kwon do?"

I pointed the knife at him. "It's a lot different in real life with a crazy man holding a knife than it is when you're practicing on women you invite to jewelry parties and happy hour." I straightened my skirt and handed the knife to one of the officers.

The short, stocky cop took off his sunglasses. "Worthy, you got in a fight with this guy?"

He shook his head. "I punched him when he made a rude comment."

"He was trying to save me," I reminded them.

"I should call your parole officer on this."

My mouth dropped. He was a criminal? And now he was getting into trouble because of me?

Dez shrugged. "I finished parole last month. And it wasn't a fight."

Another cop turned to Dez. "You want us to call an ambulance?  
Looks like you might need stitches in your head."

Dez waved him off. "Don't bother. I don't have medical insurance, anyways."

I picked up my purse and the wallpaper book and rushed over to him. "I'll pay. You got hurt because of me."

He scrubbed his hands across his face. "How about you just get me a six-pack and we call it even? I'm not going to the hospital, and the alcohol will probably help more than anything the doctors could do."

I frowned. "Let me drop off this book and we'll talk this over."

I headed for the paint store, which was my original destination before I was scheduled to join my sister for drinks with the latest guy she was pushing on me. The tiny shopping plaza was off the beaten path, but I'd never considered it dangerous.

The ceramic studio where I'd once brought my niece, Laura, was here, along with an optician's office, the oil change shop and a few empty storefronts. There were a couple of bars a block or two over. That must've been where my attacker had come from.

A police officer caught up to me as I hurried across the plaza. He asked a few more questions as I slipped the book in the drop box. Being the busy-body aunt that I was, I'd volunteered to redecorate Laura's bedroom and the wallpaper sample book was a week overdue.

_Knew we should have gone with paint instead._

As we headed back toward Dez and the other cops, the officer stopped me. "Listen, I know that guy helped you out, but you don't want to hang around him."

"Why not?"

"He's got an arrest record, and he's no stranger to fights. Just say your thanks and stay away."

But this news didn't really change my feelings. This guy had leapt off a roof to help me and gotten hurt in the process. Who knows if I would've gotten the chance—and the courage—to fight back if he hadn't intervened? But I figured it was best to humor the cop. "Okay, thanks for the heads-up."

The officers took our statements and then cleared the scene, while Dez and I stood in the empty parking lot.

The day was moments from going dark, and the lights in the parking lot had flickered on. "Does it hurt?" My fingers hovered over the gash on his forehead.

He shook his head. "It'll probably hurt tomorrow."

His goatee tickled my arm and I pulled back. "So, you really jumped off that roof?" It was only one story, but still.

"I hung off the side and then pushed off the wall. I didn't realize you were about to kick his ass or I would've kept working." He grinned, showing off perfectly straight, white teeth.

Something was off about this guy, but I couldn't put my finger on it. His rough appearance was hiding something beneath. I reached for his arm and brushed off some gravel.

Scratches marked his back and a few tiny stones were stuck in his skin. I set one hand on his shoulder, and used the other to pluck out the little rocks. "They didn't break the skin. Just a few dents." His skin was hot under my fingertips. "Turn around."

He did as I told him without complaint. My fingers grazed his skin, searching for bumps and bruises. My fingers glided over the muscles on his chest and stomach. I sucked in a breath when I saw the backside of his left arm.

"You've got a really bad scrape. I think the cop was right—you should go to the hospital. That gash on the side of your forehead looks bad, too." I pulled back, and my hands felt warm from the heat of his skin.

He reached up to feel the wound, and then looked at the tips of his fingers, dappled with spots of dark red. "Nah, the bleeding is tapering off already. I'm fine. You okay?"

I nodded. "If you're not going to let me take you to the hospital, can I at least take you out for a beer? I could use one myself after that." I was feeling a bit shaky now.

He cocked his head. "That cop didn't warn you off?"

Damn it, I was blushing. "I'm a big girl. I can be my own judge of character."

He stared at me. "I have a feeling you're going to pester me until I let you show some sort of thanks."

I nodded. "I am. Smart man."

He laughed. "Not exactly. Let me pack up my stuff and we'll grab a drink."

He loaded some tools in his pickup truck, pulled on a clean shirt, and told me to meet him at a bar on Main Street.

"This isn't the best neighborhood for someone like you at night." He opened his door, and his dog jumped in.

I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "I'm sorry, you didn't see me disarm that guy?"

"You might run into someone with a bigger knife and a worse temper next time. A girl like you can't take any chances."

I raised an eyebrow. "A girl like me?"

Walking back to me, his gaze swept from my head to my toes. "Beautiful. Rich. Look at how you're dressed."

I shook my head. "I'm not rich." I didn't mention that my parents were.  
But beautiful? Yeah, I'd take beautiful even if it was just a smoke job.

"It doesn't take much to be considered rich around here. Don't see too many people looking like you in these parts."

I crossed my arms. "I'm dressed up because I'm going on a blind date."  
At the bra bar. Impressive, for sure.

"Then you better get to it. Don't worry about me."

I shook my head. "I'm canceling. I'm too upset, and I really want to get a drink. With you."

"Fine. Let's get out of here. I'll meet you at The Sundowner."

He hopped in his old pickup truck with his dog's head hanging out the passenger-side window and made a fast right onto Main Street.

My hands shook as I drove to the bar. Maybe the cop was right. I didn't know anything about this guy. I didn't even know why he'd been in jail. But still, I needed to thank him. Then I could be at home in my jammies with a bowl or two of ice cream.

I called my sister, Vanessa, on the way there. "You're half an hour late," she said. "Dallas is just about ready to leave, Ally."

I hated when she called me that and she knew it. "Some guy just tried to mug me. I'm not coming to meet you guys."

"Oh my god! Are you alright? Do you want me to come over?" This was the perfect mishap that would keep her busy fretting for weeks. She really needed to get a job.

"No, don't come over. I'm fine. Actually, this other guy jumped in to stop him. I'm taking him out for a drink to thank him. Then I'm going home for a long, hot bath. Tell Dallas maybe another time." But I was relieved I didn't have to go out with another one of Vanessa's set-ups. Just because she was bored in her marriage didn't mean she has to play social director for me.

Even if I had been engaged three times at the ripe old age of twenty-six.

"I don't know. Dallas's not the kind to be stood up."

"Then maybe Dallas's not my type."  
No maybes about it.

**Review…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! This story will be a little short so that explains why some chapters will be shirt. I'm going to try my best to make the story last. Thanx**

At the pub, I ordered us beer and nachos, but I was far too queasy to eat. Dez quickly polished off the plate. "I skipped my lunch break today," he said, apologetically. He rested his hands on the table. They were streaked with blood and tar. He looked down at them. "Should've washed my hands first."

"Me, too." I rubbed my temples. "But I'm too wired to eat. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before." My butt really hurt from when that jerk pushed me over, but I couldn't exactly rub it.

He tried wiping his hands off on a napkin. "I wouldn't think so. What were you doing there anyway? All those shops were closed."

I looked at the ceiling and rolled my eyes. "Dropping off a way-overdue wallpaper sample book. My niece is looking for a new bedroom theme." I lifted a shoulder. "When you're single with no kids, doting on nieces and nephews is a very fulfilling hobby."

He snorted and shook his head. "I was right. Someone like you definitely shouldn't have been in that neighborhood at night."

"What?"

"Nothing. We're just from very different worlds."

I wasn't going to walk down that road. "So, I hope your girlfriend won't mind you being out with me tonight." Surely, someone who looked like him had a girlfriend. No, he wasn't classically handsome, but he was intense, with those green eyes and chiseled features. His hair and made him hot in a dangerous, sexy way. He looked like a man who knew how to take care of a woman, in and out of the bedroom.

Anyone I ever went out with looked like they had a routine bedtime, a five-star safety rated car, and was sure to pay their credit card balance in advance and in full. None of my exes would've jumped off a building for me, because who knew if insurance covered that?

He shook his head. "No girlfriend right now. Single life suits me fine."

I leaned back against the leather seat of the booth. "Me too. I'm kind of relieved I was able to cancel the date. My sister sets me up with guys she'd be interested in. We have different taste in men."

That earned a raised eyebrow. Then he said, "So aren't you going to ask?"

"What?"

"Why I went to prison. Like I told the cops, I'm fresh off parole."

I took a long swig of beer and thought about getting another. "It doesn't matter what you did in the past. What matters to me is what you did tonight."  
He shrugged.  
"But maybe you shouldn't have punched the guy. I'd feel horrible if you went back to jail because of me."

He set down his bottle of beer. "He attacked you—and he was looking up your skirt, the perv. You don't deserve that. In the past, like back in college? I might have let that slide. But now I know what kind of people are out there."

I blushed and looked down. No one had ever gotten in a fight over me. I'd never seen a man knocked out on my behalf. "Are you going to be too sore to work tomorrow"?

"Doesn't matter. I'll be there to finish up the roof. I was lucky my uncle took a chance on me when I was released. He's the only one in my family that still talks to me. It's made things difficult for him and some of the other relatives. I can't let him down."

"Well, definitely take several ibuprofen tonight for the swelling and get plenty of rest. Oh, and some ice packs for your head and you might want—"

He reached over, patted my hand and the words disappeared in my throat. Despite the very intimate, stressful encounter we shared, he hadn't touched me. His skin on mine had a surprising effect that made me shiver.

I looked at his hand and then stared into his eyes. Nothing about him made me scared. Nothing about him said, _Run_.

He smiled. "No need to worry. I plan on downing a few more beers at home and sleeping it off." He pulled his hand away and signaled to the waitress for the bill.

"No, let me get that."

"Ah, right. The obligatory thank you. Fine, you can pick up the check, only because I know it will make you feel better."

It really seemed like a totally inadequate way to thank a man for saving my life.

Then, it was like he was reading my thoughts. "I was in the right place at the right time for once. Usually, I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time with all the wrong people." He grinned. "It was nice for a change"

I jotted down my phone number on the back of my business card and handed it to him. "Call me if you change your mind about going to the hospital. I can afford it, don't worry."

He took my card and looked at it. "Real estate agent, huh?"

I nodded. "And despite the bad economy, I'm doing fine. Just listed a beautiful Victorian yesterday. I can pay for medical care if you need it."

"Thanks, but I'm sure I'll be fine."  
He walked me to my car. "You go straight home and be careful where you go at night from now on."

"I will." I stood there next to my car, inches away from him. It had the nervous feeling of a first-date kiss.

He held out his hand. "Nice meeting you, Ally."

"You, too, Dez. Take care." He stood in the parking lot and watched me drive away.

* * *

I couldn't sleep. Whenever I started drifting off, the drunk man's wild eyes appeared before mine and I woke with a start, clutching my quilt. Finally, at three a.m., I cried myself to sleep, letting my mind run in a thousand wild directions with all the horrible things that could've happened. Dez's green eyes were the last thing I saw before I finally conked out.

**Again sorry for the short chapter. Until next time.  
Review**


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